


vroom, they don't see me coming

by atlantisairlock



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: Accidents, Cars, Daphne Kluger Is Not Gifted At Driving, Driving, Driving Lessons, F/F, First Kiss, Future Fic, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Mentors, Some Humor, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock
Summary: The girls try to teach Daphne how to drive.Key word here being 'try'.





	vroom, they don't see me coming

**Author's Note:**

> for two tumblr anons, who asked for: i don’t know if you’re taking prompts but for whatever reason i really love lou & daphne together + daphne doesn’t know how to drive because she’s been a star since she was in diapers & has always had drivers. the girls teach her. some more successfully than others. 
> 
> background amita x constance + nine ball x tammy.
> 
> title from 'activated' by cher lloyd.

“I’m thinking about renewing my license,” says Constance.

“I didn’t even know you drove,” says Debbie. “You asked me for a Metrocard.” 

Constance rolls her eyes. “Just because I don’t own a car doesn’t mean I don’t have my _license._ But yeah, I’m thinking about changing up the photo, so… DMV field trip, anybody?”

From where she’s seated on the sofa, tapping at her laptop, Nine Ball snorts. “Who needs to go to the DMV to renew their license? Just do it online.” 

“But I want to change my _photo._ You can’t do it online.”

“You can if you got me,” says Nine Ball, grinning. “Actually, anybody else up for renewal? I’ll do it all in one shot.” 

Six people get up from where they’re sitting around in the living room and head in Nine Ball’s direction. Daphne just stays seated where she is, tossing another kernel of popcorn in her mouth. Nine Ball raises an eyebrow. “Hey, Daphne. No need to renew yours?”

“Don’t have my license,” Daphne replies promptly. “Never learned to drive.”

Complete silence falls over the room. Daphne notices after a second, turning to see all seven of them with their mouths open and shock written all over their faces. “What?” She asks defensively. “I’ve been chauffered around all my life. Why would I ever need to learn to drive?”

“Because it’s a life skill,” says Amita, very slowly, like she’s speaking to a six-year-old. “Even if you don’t own a car.”

“It might get you out of trouble one day,” Rose offers. Everyone briefly turns to raise their eyebrows at her. Rose shrugs. “No comment.” 

Daphne doesn’t look concerned. “I’ve got enough money to last me the rest of my life and I could get chauffered around every day and still have enough to live on. And where would I get driving lessons anyway? I don’t want the paps hounding me to and fro some driving school.”

Everyone glances at one another before Debbie finally sighs. “Well, _we_ could teach you.” 

“All of you?” Daphne says, followed by an echo of _all of us?_ from Nine Ball, Rose and Amita. Debbie smiles. “Sure. Why not? How hard could it be?”

 

 

They actually get off to a good start. Constance and Debbie break out the theory syllabus to start Daphne off and they go through it pretty quickly and thoroughly. Daphne turns out to have near-perfect recall and grasps concepts and ideas really fast, so it goes like a breeze. 

Even getting into the car itself goes all right at first, because she doesn’t take the wheel. Debbie, Amita and Tammy all take Daphne out for a few rides, showing her what it’s actually like to be sitting behind the wheel - how to signal, where to keep her hands, how to adjust her mirrors. Amita drives them out to a gas station once and teaches her how to refuel. Tammy opens up the hood and points out all the important bits. Rose teaches her how to change a tyre and Nine Ball shows her how to fix the damaged one so she can use it again. 

By the end of it, they’re all pretty optimistic that the practical part of the lessons are going to go fine. Daphne is curious and keen and surprisingly obedient - she even takes notes - and is eager to take her first drive. 

“We’ll take my car,” says Debbie. It’s actually Danny’s car, but semantics. “I think it’s got the best handling. And it’s auto, not manual, so you should have an easier time. I’ll ride shotgun.”

“Have fun,” says Lou, grinning at both of them. “Don’t die.”

“Psh,” says Daphne, smirking back. “I’m going to ace this.” 

 

 

Debbie comes back from Driving Lesson Number One half an hour early and sprawls back on the couch with all the blood drained from her face. Daphne follows behind her, looking a little sheepish.

“What happened?” Lou asks, eyeing both of them with wary interest. 

“She crashed it,” says Debbie faintly. “Through two hedges. And a driveway. Into the side of a garage.” 

“I’m sorry,” says Daphne, and she does look it. “I don’t know what happened! Like, I’ve gone through all the theory and sat shotgun with the others but it doesn’t translate when I’m actually in the driver’s seat.” 

Lou tuts sympathetically. “Wasn’t Debbie instructing you?”

Daphne bites her lip. “Well, yes, but she was saying stuff and I was trying to coordinate my hands and feet and everything and I just got… really mixed up.” 

“Well,” says Lou. “Maybe you just need another teacher.”

 

 

“No,” says Tammy flatly. “I have two young children and my husband is off languishing in prison. I’m not riding shotgun with an inexperienced driver who already has one crash under her belt.” 

“Harsh,” says Nine Ball, but smiles fondly at Tammy, and Tammy smiles back. “Lend me your car, babe? I think I can do a better job than Debbie.”

“Hey!” Debbie yells from her room. Nine Ball and Tammy snort with laughter. “You up for it, Daphne?”

“Sure,” Daphne replies. It can’t get worse than smashing Debbie’s car into a wall, right?

 

 

The good news is that it doesn’t. Daphne’s second drive goes blessedly crash-free.

The _bad_ news is that she drives over 1) a cat, 2) a porcupine, and 3) a spike strip. 

“You _what?!”_ Rose screeches when Daphne glumly gives her report at the dinner table. “You killed a cat?!”

They collectively suddenly remember that Rose has a very soft spot for felines. Daphne looks like she’s about to burst into tears. “I know! It was horrible, I didn’t see it, and then it felt like we hit something, and then we got out, and - “

Lou interrupts before she can go any further. “Did you talk to the owner?”

“Yeah, we did,” says Nine Ball, looking exhausted. “She was really upset, but she also wasn’t that pissed because her cat’s always finding means and ways to sneak out of the house and onto the road. The porcupine owner was angrier.” 

“And the car owner,” says Tammy, rubbing her temples. “Why was there a spike strip in the middle of the road anyway? How did you run over it?”

Daphne covers her face with both hands. Nine Ball sighs. “Well, it wasn’t in the middle of the road per se. It was on the border of someone’s property.”

She lets this sink in. Constance raises one eyebrow. “So… she almost crashed. Again.” 

“Yes,” Daphne moans. “If it weren’t for the spike strip I would’ve wrecked the car.” 

“So punctured tyres are the lesser evil. Chin up, Tim Tam,” says Lou.

“I’ll replace them,” Daphne promises.

Tammy just sighs again and lifts her eyes to the ceiling in prayer.

 

 

Amita and Constance corner Daphne when she’s on her way to the backyard. “We know what you need.”

“Um, what?” Daphne asks, looking at them nervously. 

“She means driving-wise,” says Amita. “Not, like, sex or what you think she meant.”

“Yes, I knew that,” says Daphne, who was not actually sure, but okay.

Constance ignores this exchange. “See, you know what the problem with the other two times was? Your teachers were riding shotgun,” she says confidently. “You need to have the mindset that you are _alone!_ Nobody else to depend on but _yourself._ You are the driver. You are in control. You and you alone are responsible for the safety of your car and your self.” She folds her arms, looking pleased. “So this time, we’re taking Amita’s car. We’ll both sit in the back seat and stay quiet and stay low, no instructions, nothing. You just drive as slow and steady as you like and we won’t intervene unless it looks like lives are in danger.” 

She looks very proud of herself. Amita looks a little less reassured of her girlfriend’s wisdom, but nods firmly. “Let’s try it.”

 

 

“On the bright side,” says Constance, two hours later, when she's taken the wheel and is slowly driving towards the nearest mechanic’s. “I think this did go exponentially better than the past two times.”

“That’s because it’s not your car,” says Amita moodily. 

“But it’s true! Look, she didn’t crash it, and she didn’t kill anything.” 

“Yes,” says Amita. “She just scraped half the paint job off and destroyed my right wing mirror.” 

“Sorry,” says Daphne, who is really beginning to appreciate the hell out of her chauffeurs.

 

 

“Come on,” says Rose, one morning. “We’re going out for another lesson.”

Daphne looks up at her in surprise. “But all the cars are at the mechanic’s.”

“Yes, but the nearest car rental is just two miles down the road. We’ll pick one up and you can take it for a spin.” 

“That doesn’t sound like the best idea,” says Daphne, who really doesn’t want to be crashing a car that doesn’t belong to her or anyone that she knows.

“I taught two of my nephews how to drive stick when they were fourteen,” Rose replies. “With patience and a firm hand. I can do the same with you. Come on, let’s go.” 

 

 

“Driving stick isn’t as hard as everyone says it is,” says Rose, when they get their rental.

She’s right. It’s much, much harder. The staff member who greets them when they return to the company just stares in shock at the massive dent on the back door, shocked into speechlessness.

“Keep the deposit,” says a heavily-disguised Daphne, very wearily. 

“Uh, we’re going to need a bit more than just the deposit, miss,” she says, and Daphne really isn’t even surprised. 

“Well, that wasn’t the best lesson, but you didn’t _crash,”_ says Rose, very optimistically, when they’re taking the slow walk back home. “Maybe we can try it with an auto next time.” 

 

 

When ‘next time’ rolls around, it’s Lou and Tammy who take her to a different rental company. Tammy sits shotgun and Lou keeps quiet in the back and it actually goes pretty decently. She doesn’t run into anything, or run over anything, or scrape or dent the body work, or smash a headlight, or puncture a tyre, or _anything._

Other than the fact that she covers only five miles in thirty minutes, it’s actually a very good attempt. 

This rental company takes their car back without looking at Daphne like she’s a complete moron. This cheers all of them. They go back to it for another try three days later.

Of course, this time she gets into a full-blown accident. In her defence, it’s not entirely her fault - someone runs a red light - and it isn’t serious; nobody’s injured, but it leaves all three of them a bit shaken. Lou has to physically help Daphne out of the driver’s seat because she’s shivering so much she can barely stand. 

“We could have died,” she says quietly, watching as Tammy gives it to the other driver at the top of her voice and threatens legal action. “I could have killed us.” 

“Hey,” says Lou, softly and gently. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I could have braked faster, or turned, or seen him, or…” Daphne falls silent. “We could have _died.”_

They stand there for a little longer, watching Tammy slow down and finally stop her tirade, the cowed, errant driver handing over all the money in his wallet with profuse tearful apologies. Lou puts an arm around Daphne’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go home.” 

 

 

The driving lessons stop briefly after a while, because all three cars are being repaired and the car rental companies in the area are beginning to glare at her whenever she walks through the door again. She sits quietly in her room a lot of the time and tries not to feel like an inadequate idiot. 

“Hey,” says Lou, poking her head past the doorframe. “You okay?”

Daphne makes a noncommital noise, huddling deeper into her blankets. “I’m _never_ going to learn how to drive,” she says, sniffing a little. “And everyone’s always going to think I’m a stupid spoiled brat who needs everything handed to her on a silver platter and if we ever pull another heist and we need a getaway driver I’m _never_ going to be able to do it. I’ll probably land all of us in hospital because I’m so useless.” 

Lou’s lips thin into a frown, and she steps inside Daphne’s room, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Hey. It’s just driving, okay? Nobody thinks you’re useless or a stupid spoiled brat. And the accident wasn’t your fault, and nobody got hurt.” Daphne doesn’t reply, and Lou just stays quiet for a minute, not touching her, not saying a word. Finally, she sighs. “I haven’t properly done a lesson with you. We’ll try it when one of the cars comes back from the mechanic’s, okay?”

“I don’t want to drive any more,” says Daphne, voice trembling. “I’m just going to fuck up and ruin someone’s car again.”

“Just one more try. For me,” Lou coaxes. “If after that one try, you decide you still don’t ever want to drive, I won’t say a word.” 

Daphne digs her nails into her palm, meeting Lou’s gaze and nodding slightly. “Fine. Just one try.” 

Lou smiles, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “That’s my girl.” 

 

 

Tammy’s car is the first to come back, because there wasn’t any real damage to the body work, just the tyres. Once it does, Lou goes right to her and asks for the keys. Tammy eyes her warily. “Again? Seriously?”

“Trust me,” says Lou, looking around at all of them staring at her skeptically. “By tomorrow evening, she’ll have accomplished the equivalent of passing the official practical test.”

Debbie raises an eyebrow, giving her a thoughtful frown. “What makes you so sure you can succeed where literally all of us have failed?” 

Lou smirks. “Because I’ve been watching you teach her, and I know why you’re failing. All of your teaching styles are missing a key ingredient that basically caters to half of Daphne’s personality.” 

“Do tell,” says Rose, curiously.

And Lou grins, sharp and smug. “Incentive.” 

 

 

The next day finds Daphne in the driver’s seat of Tammy’s car and Lou riding shotgun. She’s barely pulled out of the garage, avoiding running up the curb by a hair, when she pulls to a stop. “Oh god, I fucking can’t. My brain and hands and feet and eyes just aren’t coordinating! I can’t concentrate and there’s so much to think about and I just _can’t.”_

“Just focus,” Lou says patiently. “Relax. You’re getting from Point A to Point B, and everything you need to get there is in your control. You can do it. You excel in theory and you’ve had some practical experience now, even if it didn’t always go well. You can do it.” 

“I can’t,” says Daphne, though she does tap her foot on the accelerator and the car crawls a little further down the street. “Oh god, Lou, I can’t, I’m scared I’ll crash it again! Or ruin the car, whatever! I just can’t focus and coordinate.”

Lou watches quietly as Daphne keeps going despite her fears, picking up the pace little by little, going straight down the road and not doing any turns. They’re actually going well enough when Lou chimes in again. “How about this? If you manage to do one whole lap around the neighbourhood in under five minutes without damaging the car in any way, I’ll make out with you in the back seat for ten minutes minimum.”

Daphne very, very nearly crashes the car right that instant. As it is she has to stomp hard on the brake to avoid smashing it right into a lamppost. “What the fuck, Lou,” she cries. “You can’t just say something like that!” 

Lou, smirking smugly from the passenger seat, locks her gaze on Daphne and runs her tongue against her bottom lip invitingly. “That’s my challenge. You up for it or not?”

Daphne thinks about kissing Lou, getting in the backseat with Lou and sliding their mouths together, maybe more, and guns the engine. 

 

 

Four minutes and eleven seconds later, Daphne carefully pulls back up to where they started. She has never gripped the steering wheel tighter in her life and her legs are actually aching from how she poised them over the brake and the accelerator and her head hurts a little from how intensely she was focusing on the road ahead. 

But she did it. And it was a pretty smooth ride, all things considered, and the car is blessedly free from any new dents. Slowly, Daphne exhales, uncurling her fingers from the wheel one by one.

“I told you,” says Lou, and Daphne tilts her head back, letting out a laugh of pure relief. “Oh my god, I did it. I actually did it!” 

“You did,” Lou says silkily, sounding proud and pleased and covetous all at once. “And I promised a reward.” And she doesn’t even hesitate right after saying that, just leans across and takes Daphne’s chin in her hand and pulls her close, kisses her. Daphne loses all higher brain function that rendered her capable of driving _immediately,_ in favour of every brain cell screaming _WARM, SOFT, NICE._ She melts into it, kissing back with fervour and making this low moaning noise that she think she would be embarrassed by if she wasn’t living the dream right now that is _kissing Lou Miller._

She does make this helpless whimper when Lou pulls back and immediately wants to bury herself in the ground. Lou laughs softly. “Backseat?”

“Oh god, yes,” Daphne replies breathlessly, scrambling out of her side. 

 

 

“You two took a while. You really managed to pass the test?” Tammy asks when they get back, not looking up from where she’s preparing the kids’ lunches for the next day. Neither Lou nor Daphne say anything, which _does_ make Tammy look up, and then she narrows her eyes. “Jesus. You didn’t crash it, did you?”

“No. I actually drove really well,” says Daphne, very slowly. “But, uh… we were occupied.”

Tammy looks confused for a second, then understanding dawns, and along with it, horror and amazement. “Oh my god, you fucking didn’t.” The silence continues. Tammy gives them the filthiest look imaginable. “I swear to god, if you two had sex in the back of my car you are giving it a full cleaning job tomorrow and paying for it out of your own pockets!” 

“Relax, we will,” says Lou, in what she imagines to be a soothing manner.

“Screw you!” Tammy replies, looking this close to tossing the butter knife in her hand in Lou’s direction. Daphne wisely drags both of them out of the kitchen at top speed. 

 

 

“I don’t want to clean Tammy’s car,” says Daphne, later, when they’re safely holed up in Lou’s room curled up in each other’s arms, slowly interspersing conversation with more kissing. 

“If you’re going to drive a car, honey, you’ll need to clean it,” says Lou. 

“But _cleaning,_ ” says Daphne, aware that she sounds like a brat but really, _really_ not wanting to stand in the driveway for an hour sponging down the interior or whatever. “Can’t I just wheedle one of the others into doing it for me and repay them in sexual favours?”

It’s supposed to be a joke, but Lou’s eyes darken and she bares her teeth a little. “Fuck no,” she says, low and just on this side of dangerous, very much on this side of hot. “You really want to fuck one of the other girls, Daphne?”

“It was just a joke,” she says, softly, more tenderly than she expects it to come out. “Lou, hey, no. I don’t want anybody but you. I _never_ want anybody but you.” _I’ve wanted you for so long,_ she thinks of saying, but chooses instead to tug Lou into a kiss, lingering and slow. “I love you.” 

Lou kisses her back, stroking her fingers through Daphne’s hair. When she looks at Daphne, her eyes are so warm and her expression so open it makes Daphne shiver from the sheer depth of feeling in them. “I love you too, Daphne Kluger,” she says, and it sounds like the greatest truth in the universe. “You’re the only one I want.” And then her tone lightens, going mischievous. “You’re still on car-washing duty with me tomorrow, though.” 

Daphne pouts. “Or, we could just buy Tammy a new car…” 

 

 

Tammy looks at the keys Daphne presses into her hand, back up at Daphne, back to the keys, then pinches the bridge of her nose with the other hand, eyes screwed tight. “Daphne,” she says, very slowly, very pained, like she doesn’t actually want to know the answer to the question she’s going to ask. “Daphne, what is this?”

“Keys,” says Daphne helpfully. She swears she can see a vein throbbing in Tammy’s forehead. “Keys to _what?”_

“To your new car, Tim Tam,” says Lou, coming up from behind Daphne and putting an arm around her waist. “To make up for, well, what happened in your old car.”

For a long minute Tammy is silent, an impressive array of emotions contorting over her face, like she can’t decide if she wants to laugh or cry or wring their necks. Eventually she lets out a very even breath. “All I asked you two to do was _clean the car_ after you happily went and _fucked in the backseat,_ ” she says. “And you decided buying me a _whole new car_ was preferable to just giving the leather a nice wipe down?” 

Well, evidently so. Tammy takes another deep breath and lets it out. “Okay, at least tell me you got a decent car.” 

“It’s a BMW,” Daphne offers.

“You’re insane,” Tammy replies. “Now where is it?” 

 

 

Everyone is delighted (and relieved), and Lou preens endlessly at her success, when Daphne starts spending more time in the driver's seat, gaining confidence and experience and legitimately becoming a better driver. 

She also spends a lot more time in the backseat, but that's nobody's business but her and Lou's own.

 

 

“How come Tammy gets a new BMW and I’m still stuck with my Kia?” Amita demands when they all go out to the garage one morning to pick which cars to take on their day trip out to the beach. 

“If you want them to get you a new car, Amita, let them fuck in your current one and you’re golden,” says Tammy sweetly. Amita yelps in horror and Constance wheezes from laughing. “What the fuck?!” 

“Are you offering?” Lou asks, smiling docilely at Amita.

“Fuck off,” says Amita. “Drive your own car.” 

Nine Ball and Debbie clamour to take Tammy’s BMW, and Amita takes Rose and Constance in her Kia. Daphne smiles over at Lou, twirling the keys on one finger. “I’ll drive?”

“Go ahead, baby,” says Lou, sliding gracefully into the passenger seat. “Time to put your lessons to good use.” 

Daphne grins, putting the key in, turning it and reveling in the rumble of the engine starting, the familiar hum. “Time to go for a _ride.”_


End file.
